Existence
by ttchaku
Summary: AU Single mother, Lily Evans is raising her son, Harry, by herself, but when the father gets a whiff of his son’s existence, he wants more than just a glance…
1. All Grown Up

**Existence**

**All Grown Up**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N: **Well, I did it again. I started another story when I haven't even updated any of the other ones I've started. I appreciate all the reviews and I haven't forgotten any of my stories, not at all. It's just that, all of a sudden, real life has caught up with me. I tried not to let it affect my writing, and it didn't…to an extent. It's easy to write things in my notebook, which I carry everywhere, but it's a whole nother story to find time to type and edit them. I really need an editor…Anyway, enjoy the latest plot bunny, hopefully it's completely original and you've never read anything like it. Remember, if there are any questions, comments or criticisms, please review. Also, I just want to mention one thing about the birth scene. I'm an EMT, but I had to take major liberties with the scene, so yes, it's not incredibly realistic, but for the purpose of the scene, it works.

**Summary:** Single mother, Lily Evans is raising her son, Harry, by herself, but when the father gets a whiff of his son's existence, he wants more than just a glance…

_1980:_ Lily Evans, tears streaming down her face, pushed hard once more and collapsed back onto her hospital bed, clenching the sweaty white linen. The doctor sitting at the foot of her bed smiled as sudden wailing filled the small room.

"Well, it looks like you have a boy, Mrs. Evans." she said, handing the small baby boy to a nurse who cleaned and wrapped him in a light blue blanket.

"Th- thank you," Lily gasped, "and it's Ms. Evans. Can I see him?"

The nurse nodded and carefully handed the crying baby over to her. "He's beautiful ma'am. You're very lucky."

Lily's mouth curved into a tired smile at the compliment and nodding at the nurse, she took the baby from her. Looking at her son, she wiped away her final tears and smiled sadly at him. "He is, isn't he?"

Placing a soft kiss on the infant's head, she laughed softly as he looked around in bewilderment until finally focusing on his mother. Slowly, his scrunched up face smoothed out and he smiled at her, gurgling. He was perfect. He had ten perfect little fingers; ten perfect little toes, one absolutely adorable button nose, tufts of untidy brown hair, and gorgeous green eyes. He was the perfect combination of Lily and-

"Ms. Evans?" Startled, Lily looked up "Do you have a name yet?"

"Um, well yes, actually." Lily smoothed the baby's hair out of his eyes, "His name's Harry, Harry Evans."

"Wonderful." the nurse commented, "Now just give Harry to me and if there's a father or family member I could talk to-" Lily shook her head, red hair swinging limply, "Ah, well then, I'll take Harry while you fill out these forms."

"Of course." Lily said, reluctantly handing Harry over to the nurse, "But…you won't- when…"

The nurse laughed. "Don't worry Ms. Evans, you'll get to see Harry again in a hour or two."

"Yes, I know." Lily hesitated, "But…you won't let anyone take him, will you?"

"What?"

"I mean, I just- he's mine, right? Mine and no one else's?" Lily asked, pleading.

The nurse frowned and then smiled sympathetically at her. "He's all yours. No one is going to take him from you." she said, patting her arm.

"Thank you." Lily murmured, relaxing onto the bed.

The nurse smiled and left the room, holding Harry close to her breast.

Lily turned to the papers, now assured that Harry was safe. Filling out the papers steadily, she stopped suddenly when she came to the slot marked father. Her heart ached. But this would work; this would have to work. No, she would make it work. Looking at the blank space under the name, Father, she sighed: _unknown_.

* * *

_1991: _"Hey Harry, awesome game!"

"And what a goal at the end! You're going to pave the way to the nationals for Hogwarts!"

"Keep up the good work!"

Harry Evans ducked his head and scurried over to his two best friends who were waiting for him near his locker. Noticing their mirthful faces, he slipped off his backpack, opened his locker with a clang and buried his head in the anonymousness of his locker.

"Tell me when everyone's stopped staring." he moaned.

Hermione laughed, curly brown hair bouncing energetically. "You're a celebrity now, Harry." she teased, "Soon I'm going to have to start making appointments to see you."

"I know," Ron quipped, and then turning to Hermione, he mock seriously asked, "Do you think that if I make a couple goals during the next game, I'll have girls throwing themselves at me?"

Hermione whacked him hard with her purse. "You don't need girls hanging off you," she sniffed, "You'd get a big head; Harry, on the other hand, can handle it."

"What! So you think-"

"Oh honestly," Harry grumbled, taking out some books and slamming his locker shut, "You score a couple of goals, win a few games, and-"

"A few games?" Ron said incredulously, "You're the star of the soccer team, Harry!"

"And," Hermione said smugly, "You're going to lead us to the national championship."

"Oh please." Harry waved his hand as if brushing the fact away, "It's a team effort. We all worked very hard to make the semifinals. I mean, last game you stopped at least half the opposing players from making it to the goal, Ron. The defense is just as important as the offense; in fact, it's probably even more important."

"Oh please," Ron scoffed, "You're the reason we've gotten this far. I told you that Hogwart's was going to have the best team ever when you joined."

"Don't-"

"Harry!" Oliver Wood, the captain of the soccer team, converged upon the trio, seemingly everywhere at once, "We have to have a team meeting."

Harry blanched and put his books in front of his body as a shield. "We can't now, Oliver. I have math class. McGonagall will kill me if I'm late."

"McGonagall's the coach of the soccer team. She'll understand if we need a last minute meeting. The semifinal match is in a week!"

"Wood-"

Ignoring him, Oliver grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hall. "You too Weasley," he called over his left shoulder, "Move it."

Harry sighed. Ever since he had started Hogwarts eight months ago, life had just gotten more and more hectic. It wasn't soccer; he loved soccer. It was all the pressure that came along with soccer. It all the popularity soccer had suddenly given him- the pictures in the newspapers, the interviews on local TV; it was the entire school expecting him to lead them to victory…he was only a first year, for god's sake!

And it was his mom. Oh yes, it was definitely his mom. He loved his mother; she had worked two jobs since he was born to get them where they were and he owned everything to her, but sometimes he couldn't help wondering when soccer had gone from a way to keep him out of her hair for a couple of hours to an all time consuming sport that had gone from kicking a ball around to the key to his future for his mom. It seemed like-

"Oliver…is this a broom closet?" Harry asked suddenly, interrupting his own thoughts.

Oliver looked around furtively. "I couldn't be sure that the locker room wasn't booby trapped."

"Booby trapped?" George and Fred Weasley entered the broom closet, pushing Ron, Neville, and Seamus, before them, "Oliver, have you lost your mind?"

"What are you talking about, dear brother?" Fred chimed in, "It's completely normal to meet in an cramped dusty broom closet when there's a huge locker room just waiting for us down the corridor."

"Of course, but Oliver just really likes the décor." Ron added.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Everyone here?"

Seamus shook his head. "Dean has an English test."

"An English test?" Oliver cried out disbelievingly, "How is an English test more important than this meeting?"

"Oliver," Harry said, interrupting the soon to come tirade, "why don't you try telling us why you brought us here."

"Glad you asked, because it involves you." Oliver said reaching into his backpack.

"Me? What is it?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"Look at this." Oliver said, holding out a newspaper.

Taking the newspaper, Harry moaned unhappily. Splayed across the front page of the L. A. Times was the heading: **Soccer Phenomenon to Lead Hogwarts to Victory**. Below the headline was a full-color picture depicting Harry in mid scissor kick, mud spraying upwards, covering almost everything except a blurred outline of his body and his determined green eyes.

"Don't they have anything better to write about. Wars? Natural disasters? Anything but a small town soccer player?" Harry groaned.

"Must have a slow news day." Ron commented, slinging an gangly arm over Harry's shoulder, "Nice picture though."

"No, no, bad picture." Oliver said hysterically, "Don't you see, Harry isn't our secret weapon anymore. We can't trot him in at halftime and pulverize the other team whenever we want. Now everyone knows how good he is." Oliver gasped suddenly. "There could be attacks." he grabbed Harry's shirt, "how much time do you spend alone?"

"Uh…Oliver," Harry started, "I don't think anyone's going to attack me. It's just a soccer match."

"JUST A SOCCER MATCH!" Oliver yelled, his voice reverberating in the small closet, "It is not just a soccer match, Harry. It's _the_ soccer match, the nationals. The two best teams in America play in it and almost every member becomes a pro afterwards. So, do you spend much time alone?"

Harry threw up his hands. "My mother works. I'm alone until after soccer practice till about eleven at night. On weekends, we usually have practice, but I do spend the rest of the weekend with mom, so-"

"That's horrible!" Oliver said feverishly, "From now on you need to be with someone at all times. Never be alone. Someone could kidnap you or injure you or maybe-"

"Alright, alright," Harry burst out, "I'll stay with someone when my mom's not home. Just…calm down before you have an attack."

"Great," Oliver smiled, "Now, on to practice."

"Umm Oliver," Neville piped up for the first time since the impromptu meeting began, "Don't we still have school?"

* * *

Miles away, another man, suspiciously similar to a certain soccer star was looking at the same picture. His name was James Potter, and he was not only a movie star, but _the_ movie star. And currently, he was staring at the picture splashed across the front page with mounting curiosity.

"Pettigrew!" he shouted, walking throughout his multimillion dollar home, "Where are you?"

"Right here sir." A short dumpy man flew through the door, fumbling with a cache of papers, "Actually I'm glad you called. The Academy called again. They want you to give some of the awards away and also, the director of that movie you showed interest in sent us an email. They already have a lead actor for the role, but they'd be happy to offer you another smaller role, or if you want, you can have the pick of any other movies the studio is producing. A couple of them look like-"

James ignored Pettigrew completely. "Has Sirius arrived?"

"I…uh…hold on, let me check." Pettigrew haphazardly opened his briefcase, dropping half the papers in the process, "Umm…"

"Pettigrew!" James snapped, "Just check the parlor, will you?"

"Oh," Pettigrew squeaked, "Right away!"

Rolling his eyes, James brushed a piece of invisible lint from his Armani suit, smoothing it out completely. "Jimbo!" Sirius came up and slapped him on the back, wrinkling the suit again.

James grimaced and turned and gave Sirius the same treatment. "Good to see you again, Siri."

"Yeah, it's been a while, but at least I've got a tan." Sirius turned, showing off all his muscles.

Sirius was an old friend of James from high school. He had gone through the same acting challenges as James had and was a formidable actor in his own right. Now he lived nearby and even though the two were busier than ever before, they still saw each other at least once a week.

"So," Sirius asked, blue eyes dancing, "What's got Pettigrew in a tiff now?"

"Just the usual." James said dismissively, "Forget about him and take a look at this picture."

"High school soccer?" Sirius wrinkled his nose, "I never thought you'd be into-"

"The picture, you idiot." James said irritably.

Sirius's eyes widened. "He's the splitting image of you, James!"

"He is, isn't he?" James said self-satisfied.

"Yeah," Sirius flipped through the paper trying to find the related article, "Who is he? Maybe he can be your younger double in movies."

"His last name's is Evans." James said, his mouth grim.

"Evans?" Sirius questioned, "Wait, here: At Hogwarts, life is defined by soccer, soccer and more soccer. Finally, after a seven-year dry streak, Hogwarts finally has a chance at the national title and it's all due to young soccer prodigy, Harry Evans…" Sirius skipped ahead, "…Harry, son of single mother, Lily Evans, lives on the lower west side in-"

"Lily Evans, do you see, right there? James pointed out the sentence for emphasis, "Remember Lily Evans?"

"Yeah sure," Sirius said slowly, "You dumped her when you found out that you got the part for that movie."

"Yes, and it was a good move too; I won my first Oscar for that movie." James said tightly.

"I'm not saying that it wasn't," Sirius placated, "But…you did ever…do you think he's yours."

"Well, he's the right age, and he certainly looks like he is." James muttered, "We did have sex a couple of times."

"Wow!" Sirius whistled, "If he is…then, well…wow. This is big; this is really big. I mean, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to speak to my old fame." James said, rolling up his newspaper.

"And then?" Sirius said worriedly.

"If she admits it…then, well, Harry seems like a good kid, and I can certainly give him a better life than one on the lower west side. And if she doesn't admit it, then I'll make the accusation public and order a DNA test."

"Be careful James," Sirius said, "You might end up with more than you bargained for."

Deep brown eyes narrowed, "I don't care. If Lily Evans has been hiding something of mine from me then I swear upon all that's holy, I'll bring hell upon her with the swiftness and force of a lighting strike."

James Potter turned and stalked from the room, planning to leave disaster in his wake.

* * *

"And so now, I have to stay at Ron's until you come home, because Oliver's afraid that someone's going to kidnap me or something stupid like that." Harry complained, kicking his feet against the worn wooden table, "He's so obsessed."

Lily Evan laughed, her tired smile hidden by a chipped coffee mug. It was late, almost twelve, but it was one of the only times mother and son got to spend a few scant moments together in their small one bedroom apartment, so they lit a few candles, warmed up dinner and made do with the half an hour they had before Harry would fall asleep at the table from exhaustion and Lily would drag him off to bed, tucking him in like she did when he was young.

Harry wouldn't say they lived in the slums; it wasn't as if there were knifings and drive-bys every five minutes. Those things only happened in movies anyway. On the other hand, Harry couldn't say they lived the high life either. All he could say was that they loved each other and in the end that was all that mattered, wasn't it?

Lily got up stretching her tired muscles, and swept the last of dinner into the garbage, before starting the clunky dishwasher. "Dinner was delicious as usual, sweetie. Thank you."

"No problem. Mom, the next game is going to be in two weeks on Sunday…do you think you'll be able to come?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Lily frowned, small lines appearing on her pretty face. "I'm working double shifts for the next month, Harry. Some of these new expenses have cleaned us out. I'm sorry, but tell you what, if you make the finals, and you will, I'll most definitely come to that."

"Well you're going to have to. It's on the east coast." Harry snapped suddenly.

"Harry…" Lily sighed, "I know-"

"No." Harry said softly, "You don't. I started playing soccer to make you proud, but if you even come to the games anymore because you're so tired or still working, then there's no point to playing," Harry broke off, "Maybe…maybe I should quit soccer. I can go to a public school and get a job after school and-"

"No, Harry," Lily said firmly, "I'm not going to let that happen. Who knows how many stars were born and never got the chance to shine, because they never got farther than a job at a gas station. I don't want that to happen to you. Even if you decide not to follow a career in soccer, by that time you'll have more choices. You could go to college…"

Harry tuned out the rest of the litany as his mother latched onto her favorite topic: college. It was her mother's dream for him to go, probably because she had never went herself. Percy had told him once that his mother's desire for him to go to college stemmed from the fact that she had never gone to college herself. Harry supposed that this was another one of those if-your-parents-didn't-do-it-you-will things that parents foisted on their kid's shoulders every once and a while.

Finally Harry sighed and slipped off his stool, tracing the faded fabric of his nightshirt. "Let's not have this conversation again. I'm going to go to bed; we have to get up early tomorrow for practice."

"Alright baby," Lily said, smoothing his raven hair away from his eyes, "I'll be in soon to tuck you in."

Harry stared at his mother solemnly. "Night mom."

Lily looked back at him, framed by the light of the dying candles. It gave her an almost ethereal appearance. As if she was both old and young at the same time. In one moment, she looked as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders; in another, the candles flickered and she was once again a lively eighteen year old, her entire life ahead of her.

"Good night." she whispered, standing and kissing him softly on the head.

Then, after Lily was sure that Harry had left, she opened the liquor cabinet.

**T**o **B**e **C**ontinued…


	2. First Meetings and More

**Existence**

**First Meetings and More**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N: **Well, I did it again. I started another story when I haven't even updated any of the other ones I've started. I appreciate all the reviews and I haven't forgotten any of my stories, not at all. It's just that, all of a sudden, real life has caught up with me. I tried not to let it affect my writing, and it didn't…to an extent. It's easy to write things in my notebook, which I carry everywhere, but it's a whole nother story to find time to type and edit them. I really need an editor. Remember, if there are any questions, comments or criticisms, please review.

**Summary:** Single mother, Lily Evans is raising her son, Harry, by herself, but when the father gets a whiff of his son's existence, he wants more than just a glance…

"**H**ey kid, want a ride?"

Harry looked at the sleek black limousine that had pulled up beside him in surprise. Cars like that weren't usually seen around this side of town. Harry shifted nervously and readjusted his soccer bag. He wasn't so naïve as to believe that people randomly offered rides to anonymous young boys out of the blue. But by now, the door had opened and a good-looking brown haired, brown-eyed man had stepped out.

"Hi, my name's- No, no, don't run; I won't hurt you." James called out.

Harry just shook his head and turned to run. Frustrated, James reached out and snagged the back of Harry's jacket. Quickly, Harry slipped out of his jacket and left it on the ground along with his backpack and soccer bag. There was nothing in there he couldn't replace.

James, on the other hand, was left holding his jacket in the middle of the street. He cursed aloud before tossing the two bags in the limo, telling the driver to follow him in the car, and then sprinting after Harry himself.

Harry whipped through the streets, speeding up when he saw the man running after him. "Go away!" he yelled.

Instead of heeding his words, James sped up, grabbing the small boy with one arm and hauling him back towards his chest. Harry snarled and kicked out, catching James on the shin.

"Shit!" James swore, hauling the boy over his shoulder and carrying him back towards the limo, "Come on, Harry, relax. I just want to give you your stuff and talk to you about…soccer." he ended lamely.

Harry fought him tooth and nail until he was placed in limo and handed his stuff. Suspiciously, Harry yanked his things out of James' hands and held them protectively in his own.

Sighing, James turned to the driver. "Why don't we take Harry home."

Harry blinked, surprised. "You're not going to- How did you know my name?"

Sheepishly, James held up the newspaper. "I read an article about you a couple of days ago. My…daughter is a huge fan. She watches all of your games. I was just wondering if I could have an autograph for her..." James trailed off suggestively, letting Harry think what he would.

"Oh…" Harry blushed, raking his hand through his hair. "Sorry for kicking you. I thought you were- Hey, are you okay?"

James stared at Harry, only just stopping himself from mimicking Harry's actions. This couldn't be anyone other than his son. He talked the same way; he walked the same way; his embarrassed smile- crooked but endearing, and his eyes- an everlasting green were purely Lily's, but everything else belonged to solely to James.

James felt his heart clenching in an odd sort of way that he had never felt before. He figured that this was what Sirius had meant when he had said to be careful. James suddenly wanted to know more about this young boy smiling with his green green eyes. He wanted to laugh and talk and enjoy being with him. He wanted more than just a cursory glance. It was as if Harry was seducing him into his life and James found that he didn't mind falling into the trap, if indeed it even was one.

"Sir?"

"Do you know who I am?" James asked abruptly, changing the topic. He suddenly wanted to know what this child of his thought of him.

Harry, on his part, looked confused. "I…should I?"

James shook his head at his own pig-headedness; not every kid in America knew who he was…still, "Don't you watch movies?"

"Um…actually, mom isn't too big on theaters. She got really mad when my friends took me out to see one once. They kept telling me I looked exactly like some famous actor or another…oh."

James grinned at him. "It is rather peculiar, isn't it? But anyway, tell me, does your mom always have the final say in household matters?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your father…"

"Never had one. Mom doesn't even talk about him."

James frowned. "She never even told you who he was?"

Harry looked at him curiously and James realized that he was probably coming off as too intrusive. "She asked me once if I thought that we needed him," he said slowly, "and I said that we didn't. After that I stopped asking…I figured that he ran out on her when she was pregnant with me, and well, obviously, he's scum, but there are plenty worse sob stories out there. At least I have one parent, that and soccer."

James's fists clenched. "That's a very mature way of looking at it Harry." he said tightly, already swearing revenge on Lily Evans for making him the bad guy.

"Thank you." Harry said quietly, nervously playing with his messy chocolate mop of hair.

Slowly the car eased into a comfortable chitchat, broken only by the softly voiced directions that Harry gave to the driver. Harry grinned eagerly to himself. A tingling feeling had begun to grow in his gut sometime during their limo conversation. He didn't know whether it was excitement or anticipation, but this man was so interesting! He was an actor, and a famous one at that. He had been places and done so much amazing stuff. He seemed so cool and collected, someone who knew when, how, and where to do things. Harry, himself, always felt as if things around him were about to fall apart, balancing tediously, held together only by thin strands of friendship and love. Maybe one day, he'd be able to be like James. Hopefully, he thought; it was something you grew into.

"We're here."

"Huh?" Shaken, Harry blinked, losing his trail of thoughts.

"This is your home, isn't it?" James asked gently.

"Oh, yes. Yes, of course." Harry stuttered, grabbing his backpack and soccer bag, "Thank you for the ride. I really appreciated it." he said regretfully, sad that it would never happen again.

"Well, maybe we can do this again sometime, Harry. I'd like to make it up to you for scaring you like that." James said wistfully.

Harry grinned happily. "I'd like that. Maybe we can see one of your movies."

James playfully scuffed up his hair. "Whatever you want kiddo." he promised, "What you say…after school tomorrow?"

"After soccer practice." Harry corrected, his smile almost blinding, "But, yeah, that sounds great."

James felt his heart jump. "See you then."

* * *

(Two months later…)

"Harry" Lily screamed hysterically, running forward and throwing herself onto Harry's neck, "Don't you ever do that again! You're supposed to be home by the time I get here. How do you think I felt when I found out that you weren't here?" she dragged him into the small apartment and shook him hard, "I called Ron and he couldn't find you either. Everyone's in an uproar and I was terrified! Absolut- What!"

Lily stopped dead as James stepped elegantly into the living room after Harry. Eyes widening, Lily drew Harry closer, pressing him against her body as if to turn the two into one. James ignored them for an instant, looking around the small apartment in disdain before wiping his shoes on the carpet and smiling disarmingly at Harry, his frosty eyes never leaving Lily's.

"Mom…" Harry said hesitantly, wrinkling his nose at the apparent stench of alcohol "This is James Potter. He offered to give me a ride home a couple of months ago and he's been taking me out to movies"-Lily, though seemingly ignoring her son, stiffened-"and for dinner. He's even helped me out with my homework. I'm sorry that I didn't come straight home, but…" Harry couldn't help himself, his excitement burst through the obvious somber tone of the room, "but he had tickets for the San Diego Gauchos' soccer game. It was so amazing! All the players were so good and-"

"Go to your room." Lily said suddenly, cutting him off.

"Mom, I-"

Lily frowned and taking her eyes off James for a moment to look at her son, she calmly repeated, "Go to your room, Harry, now."

"I-"

"Harry," James interrupted smoothly, "Why don't you go to your room while I have a talk with your mother. Maybe I can try to explain things." Smiling gently at the fuming boy, he winked clandestinely, making Harry giggle and grin happily. Then he nodded and ran off to his room, trusting his new friend to make everything all right.

Lily and James both waited for Harry's footsteps to fade down the hall and for the door to slam, Lily counting to five afterwards. Then she whipped around and hissed, "Don't tell my son what to do."

"Well," James countered, "It was obvious that you weren't handling the situation with _our_ son very well so I decided to step in."

Lily turned a pale white. "You…you're not…"

"You seriously aren't going to try to tell me that. Have you looked at him lately? Have you listened to him? Have you even paid him the smallest, barest amount of attention? He's my ditto copy."

"Get. Out. Of. My. House." Lily snarled, opening the door.

"Actually I believe I'd like to talk about this more. How come I had to find out about a son from the newspaper? Is there any particular reason for that Lily?" James asked, his own anger growing.

"You didn't deserve him." Lily snapped heatedly.

"Oh," James threw back, "Well, shouldn't the parent who can provide for him, deserve him?" he looked around the small apartment in disgust, "This is sickening. My son can't live in conditions like this."

"Your son?" Lily shrieked, "DON"T CALL HIM YOUR SON! You've known him for all of a month. Of course you like him, he's a wonderful kid, but don't pretend to know him or even think that you love him. He's your son, maybe in name, but never in heart. You know nothing about him. You were never there when he was five and had nightmares about the monsters in his closet or when he was six and he scored his first goal in a tournament, or when he seven and wanted to know why his fath- father couldn't take him to Father-son outings in school like everyone else. You-"

"YOU NEVER LET ME!" James all but roared, "I don't know what you thought of me, but if you thought that even for a second, I'd let a Potter go hungry, or be born a bastard, then you were dead wrong, woman."

"Yes, of course," Lily said bitterly, tears starting to fall down her face, "he would have been treated like a king, just like all of your other possessions, but Harry's not a possession, he's a little boy, and he needs more than the careless disinterest you show everything."

"No, its…it…" Suddenly James started to stutter. What was Harry to him?

"Harry is my son." he said firmly, gathering his resolve, "It doesn't matter how long I've known him because I want to know more. He constantly fascinates me. I could watch him sleep for hours on an end, that's how much he enthralls me. And what kills me…what kills me," he repeated bitterly, "is that you kept him from me for eleven years. I could have spent eleven years taking him to soccer practice and watching grow up, but no, you selfishly took that away from me. What kind of person takes the joy of child away from another person?"

Lily grimaced sadly and pointed out the door. "You gave up any rights to him long ago. Get out of my house before I call the police."

James stared at her long and hard. "Good, while you're on, hand it over. I'd like to report a kidnapping." Lily gasped "it is illegal to withhold information about the birth of a child from the father. I helped make him, so I have the same rights as you."

"You wouldn't dare." Lily said, turning paler and paler.

"Why not? We both know who the courts will decide in favor if this comes out." James sneered, "I'm really the victim in all this."

"No," Lily said, closing her eyes, "Harry is. And if you have even an ounce of the love that you say you have for him, then you won't say a word."

James clenched his fists readily. "Why not?"

"Because," Lily answered unsteadily, "Harry is already pretty famous, at least in sports circles, but he hates it. All the media exposure and the pressure of being your son would kill him. He'd hate the fact that his private life was suddenly under a microscope. If you care for him at all then you'd forget all about this and move on. Get married or something and have another kid. Ruin his life, but stay away from my Harry."

James stood there flabbergasted, until-

"Mom, James…" Harry's timid voice peeked around the corner, "Um…I heard yelling and I was worried…" Harry trailed off when he saw his mother's face, "Mom?" he said beginning to panic, "What's…what's wrong?"

"Noth-"

"Harry," James said suddenly, coming to a decision, "Come on. We need to talk…alone."

"I…but mom…"

"Please, Harry," James said desperately, "I need to tell you something important, something I should have told you when we first met. We'll only be gone for a couple minutes."

"O…okay…" Harry agreed cautiously, nervously tugging on his ear.

"Good…get your jacket first, Harry. It's cold outside." James said softly.

"Um…Okay, wait a second." Harry whispered, looking between the two adults.

"Harry…" Lily murmured faintly, "No, just…just stay here with me. Don't go with him…" she blinked back tears, "please…"

Harry frowned pensively. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but maybe you should leave. My mom-"

James slammed his fist against the wall, making Lily scream and Harry scuttle to her side, standing in front of his mother as if to protect her. "Damn it, Harry. Just…just…" James looked at his scared and upset face and backed away from him, "Sorry." he muttered quietly, "I'll…"

James turned, and sending one last mournful glance at Harry and another hate-filled one towards Lily, left the apartment.

Almost immediately, Harry whipped to face his mother. "What did you say to him?"

"Me?" Lily asked surprised, "Harry, honey, he wasn't a good man. You shouldn't hang around people like-"

Harry stamped his foot. "No, you don't understand." he yelled, "He was so cool and he…he helped me with stuff…and I liked him. He was my friend and you ruined it! You ruin everything!"

"Harry…but Harry," Lily tried, watching as he left the room, "Harry come back here, now."

"Why," Harry threw back bitterly, leaving the room, "Don't you have to have a drink or something soon?"

In a daze, Lily sank to knees. He hated her. He didn't even know about James and he already hated her. This was worse than any and every possible nightmare…and…and- There was really nothing left to do, everything truly had been ruined, so she did the only thing she could, she cried.

**T**o **B**e **C**ontined…


	3. Changes

**Existence**

**Changes**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N: **Okay, this time I went too far. I kept everyone waiting a lot longer than I should have and that isn't fair to anyone. I apologize for the long delay. Real life has this funny way of interferring with my writing, especially since I'm starting to get under a lot of pressure from school. For all those CAPT takers (and you know who you are), know that I sympathize with you. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and again, I'm sorry for the huge delay, hopefully it won't happen again. Remember, if there are any questions, comments or criticisms, please review.

**Summary:** Single mother, Lily Evans is raising her son, Harry, by herself, but when the father gets a whiff of his son's existence, he wants more than just a glance…

**W**hen the doorbell rang at six am the next morning, it was Harry who finally answered it, mumbling a sleep intoned, "Wassit?" as he opened the rickety door.

The man standing at the door snorted and pushed Harry out of the way as he entered the dilapidated room. "I see the rumors are true." he said, curling his lip, "Potter has procreated. God only knows how Lily's managed to keep your big head under wraps for so long."

Dimly, in Harry's sleep fogged brain it registered that he was being insulted and he managed to drag up the dregs of last night's still simmering indignation. "Hey!"

"If you had a brain, boy, you'd already be calling for your mother. Isn't that what children do when strange men walk into their home?"

Harry stared at the man suspiciously and then turned and yelled for Lily. As she entered the room, even oblivious Harry was struck by the sharp contrast in her features. Lily Evans looked nothing like the young girl she once did. She hardly even resembled the woman of yesterday. Her face had suddenly, as if by witchcraft, grown old overnight. Small crease marks showed the amount of her worry and her haggard, staggering appearance did little to allay the belief that she was thirty, not fifty.

"Mommy?" Harry asked softly, his anger of late, gone.

"Yes darling?" Lily asked tiredly, pulling up her lips in a crude resemblance of a smile.

"I…someone's here to see you."

"Lily." Snape said curtly, placing himself their worn wooden table.

"Severus Snape?" Lily asked, gasping.

"Yes, now sit before you fall over. Can that boy of yours make decent coffee?"

Harry glared. "Of course I can…but we don't have a coffee maker."

Snape snorted. "It figures." Sighing, he continued. "It doesn't matter now. Lily, I'm to be your lawyer in the up coming trial."

"What trial?" Harry asked.

"You?" Lily started, "But you…you never."

"I like James less, and anything that makes him unhappy, absolutely delights me." Snape said cruelly, "James has ordered a meeting between our two parties today. He hopes to settle this without going to court, actually these were his express wishes, and as we all know, we can't disobey the wishes of the biggest blowhard of all." Snape added sarcastically.

"Wait! Harry asked, his head whipping from his mother to Snape, "What's going on?"

Both adults ignored him. "Today?" Lily gasped, "but that's so soon...and…and I haven't received any official notices."

"He wants to strike when he has the advantage. Sadly, the only thing you have going for you is that your son is partially skilled with a ball and happened to develop that skill while living with you. Maybe the fact that you've somehow managed to counteract James's genes will play in your favor."

Sighing, Harry stomped out of the room. Reaching his room, he clambered over his bed and grabbed his soccer bag, which had been thrown across the room in a fit of anger the other day. Quickly, he changed into a loose blue shirt and a pair of worn black shorts. Dragging the bag behind him, Harry trotted into the bathroom and brushed his teeth to the soft murmurs of the two adults in the other room. Harry ran his hand through his hair once and then walked sedately back towards the kitchen.

"I'm going to Ron's" he called out, slinging the bag over his shoulder and reopening the door."

"Alright dear, just-" Lily shook herself, "Wait a second young man, you can't just walk out of here."

Harry turned, now more than a little irritated. "Why not?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Lily faltered. "Well…" she began.

"Is it because of some trial that I know nothing about?" Harry asked innocently, "Because if it's something important like that, then I'll stay, but otherwise…"

Snape snorted. "I can't believe it. A child, and he's got both of you completely wound around his finger. Just tell him already. It's pathetic to see two grown adults prancing around like they're stepping on eggs."

Lily looked at him, biting her lip and then shook her head. "No…I…Harry, you may go to Ron's, but be back by lunchtime. We'll probably need to get going by then."

Harry looked between the two adults carefully. "I'll get you coffee from the store Mom…if, you know, you want it."

Lily smiled at her son tiredly. "No Harry, that's alright. Go to Ron's; it's probably the best place for you right now. In fact, I'll come around with-" Lily looked at Snape questioningly and he nodded "with Mr. Snape after lunch."

"Okay…" Harry hesitated, "Sure."

* * *

Harry was kicking a ball around with Ron when Lily walked up to them, wearing a worn coat and clean slacks. "Hey Mom." Harry panted breathlessly, stopping the ball and flipping it back to Ron with an expert twist of his foot, "You're here early." 

"Yeah." Ron checked his watch, "but that's great. Mom has been meaning to invite you over for lunch. Come on, we can check if she's done."

"Ah…that sounds good Ron, but right now Harry and I need to talk…alone."

"…Oh! I'll get going now then. See you later Harry." Thumping Harry's back, Ron picked up his old soccer ball and dashed into the house, happily escaping the rising wind.

Walking forward, Lily wrapped an arm around her son, shielding him from the wind. "Harry," she whispered, sighing, "I need to tell you something. It's very important so listen up."

Harry frowned, shivering slightly in the wind as sweat cooled on his flushed skin. "What is it? What's wrong…is it because of yesterday? 'Cause I'm sorry about that. I really thought James was a good guy. He was so nice to me and-"

"Harry this isn't your fault, but it does have to do with James. He…" Lily bit her lip. "Do you remember all those times you asked about your father, Harry?"

Harry nodded slowly, digesting the change of subject. "Yeah, but what does he have to do with-" Harry paused, his face paling in realization "No!" he cried, trying to tug again from Lily.

"Oh baby," Lily hugged him tighter, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you."

Harry wrenched away from her, stumbling backwards. "Damn right you didn't tell me!" he shouted, ignoring Lily's wince, "You didn't even tell me last night…or this morning…or for the past eleven years. He's…he's here, so close, and you couldn't even tell me! I thought he was some drunk, or some jerk who-" Harry's eyes widened, and then in an indescribably small voice, "He didn't want me, did he?"

Lily stepped forward again, this time enwrapping her sniffling son in her arms comfortingly. "No darling," she whispered into his shaking body, "He wanted you, how could he not want someone as beautiful and perfect as you? He said as much last night. He-" Lily's voice broke. "He didn't want me."

"Did he even know about me?" Harry whispered quietly, crying harder and then sucking it back. "Did he know that I was alive…that I was his son? Did he just not care?"

"No…no, he loves you." Lily repeated, not knowing why she was lying to her son about the way James felt about him, only knowing that she needed to make her son stop crying, that she needed to see him smile. "He loves you. It's…it's my fault that he didn't know about you. I…I let my own emotions get in the way, but he wants you, alright dear? He wants you. I think he loved you from the moment he laid eyes on you."

The words stung like damnation on Lily's heart. She was certain that James didn't care for Harry any more than he did for a plant in his house, but she certainly wasn't going to tell that to her son. She'd go to court, get custody, or…if she didn't, then she'd run and take Harry with her. Anything to keep that bastard away from her baby boy.

Smiling weakly, she smoothed Harry flyaway hair away from his face. There was nothing more beautiful than a child. And in all their glorious innocence, there was nothing more perfect than your own child. Lily had promised herself that James was the last, that no one would claim her heart again. No one would ever have a chance to hurt her.

How quickly her promise had rung hollow.

She was a mother, and part of being a mother was falling in love with your child a little more everyday. It was learning to make tents in the living room, cook green eggs and ham, answer countless questions, and stand for hours in the pouring rain just to see your child for one grimy instant kicking a ball and despair at his muddy clothes. Her promise could come to nothing but abandonment, because in the end, there was nothing more beautiful than Harry's slim frame- his too long legs, short body, and shy crookedly placed smile. She had never thought that her child's quiet breaths as he slept at night would mean more to her than all the money in the world.

She might have been young and silly when she had had him, but she had never stopped loving him.

"Harry," she whispered, wiping away his tears, "I love you. I love you and nothing's going to change that, especially not your father. Understand." Harry nodded slowly. "Good. Remember that, okay? I love you."

Harry nodded again, and Lily guided towards the house; Harry needed a hot meal and a wet cloth for his face and she was sure that Mrs. Weasley would have both, probably already ready for her to use.

"Mommy?" Harry whispered.

"Yes, love?" Lily asked, squeezing her son lightly, "What is it?"

"When he said that he didn't want you…well, he really lost out."

Lily looked at her son, startled. "Yes, Harry. He certainly lost out on something." _On you, love, he lost out on you._

* * *

James fiddled with his Rolex, tapping his fingers against the expensive material absentmindedly. They were late. Lily was late bringing his son to meet him. James growled unconsciously; she was probably doing this out of spite. 

"James, stop that." Sirius said, looking at his best friend nervously, "Really, I mean it. I know you're getting impatient, but if you jump on the kid the second he gets here, you'll probably scare him away, and we want him to like us, remember?"

James ignored him. "Remus," he asked, turning to his other best friend and lawyer, "You do think we'll get him, don't you? I mean, you should have seen where he lives. It's in such a dangerous part of the city and he walks home! His mother isn't even home until late- I was horrified to find out that _he_ cooks dinner for _her_. He could get mugged or knifed or…god knows what men on the street could do to little boys."

"James…" Remus said soothingly, "I know-"

"He's young, you know, and he'd probably attract that kind of attention. I don't want him-"

"Attract what kind of attention, Potter? Or are you talking about yourself as usual?" Snape sneered, entering the small conference room with Lily and Harry trailing behind him.

James ignored the comment, and the subsequent barbs that followed from Sirius who jumped to his feet in objection. Harry was right behind Lily, clutching the end of her purse. He looked lost, his face still flushed a tinge of red from apparent crying. James' stomach clenched in realization.

_He knew_.

He knew and he didn't seem too happy about it. James stared at his son, soaking in his features such as the determined sweep of his shoulder and the thin string of tension hung taut from his head to the small of his back. Oh yes, he was definitely upset. James had never seen him so upset, not even last night when he had looked at James with such horror and dismay that James couldn't even it. Not from Harry, not from his son.

"Snape," Remus interrupted pleasantly, "Why are you here?"

Snape sneered. "I'm here to be Lily's attorney in the upcoming trail." James noticed Harry flinch at the word. "Lets get to work."

"Harry," James said gently, watching his son jump again, "Come sit here. You don't have to stand the entire time, you know." he teased, smiling.

Slowly, Harry untangled his hands from his mother's purse and walked stiffly over to where his father had pulled out a chair for him. He frowned at the seat as if it had personally offended him, but hesitantly lowered himself into it. Briskly, his mother walked over and sat on the other side of him, ignoring everyone else in the room, except her almost trembling son.

"Hi Harry," Sirius butted in, causing Harry to startle again, "I'm Sirius. It's wonderful to meet you."

Harry nodded, looking down at his lap. He seemed to be gathering his resolve to say something. James had learned long ago that Harry was a generally quiet, nonconfrontational person. He didn't like to get into fights and would agree to anything to keep the peace. For the first few days James had known him, Harry had nodded at every third word he said.

It must be tough, James thought sympathetically, for such a sweet kid to be put in the spotlight like this. Wistfully, James leaned over and patted Harry on the shoulder, jerking away when Harry twisted away, practically leaping into his mother's lap.

James quickly put his hands into his lap, furiously wiping the hand he had touched Harry with on his pants. He glared at his hands, ignoring Sirius' and Remus' compassionate looks and Snape's smirk. He didn't need concern; he needed to able to touch his son without watching him panic.

James clenched his fists. He didn't understand it, but suddenly he hated himself, absolutely detested himself. He should have never let Harry get away, should have never let him go home- should have stolen him away every time his heart bled at the sight of his happy countenance knowing that he had caused it. He should have stayed that night and forced Harry to listen to him, even if he had had to drag his son out of the apartment kicking and screaming.

He should have done something, because…he _loved_ the kid. He had only known him for a couple of months, but he loved him more than he had ever loved anything in the world. He was…James had helped create him, this wonder- this miracle. His son.

God, James just wanted to see him smile.

"Well, let's get started. I'm sure that no one wants to be here all-" Remus frowned, pausing in the middle of his speech, "Harry?" he asked, "Do you want to say something?"

Harry opened his mouth. "I…" he faltered, shutting his mouth, and shaking his head.

"Okay, that alright." Remus said smiling gently, and returning to the topic at hand. "James has expressed his wishes at keeping this out of court." Remus stated, "I assume you agree Lily?"

"Yes, Ms. Evans has decided to concur with Potter's wishes. She doesn't want this to go to court either." Snape answered for Lily, "We would like to resolve with without the usual media frenzy." he sneered.

"Believe me, that's all I want to. I don't want to drag Harry into anything he's not ready for." James answered earnestly, shaken out his morbid thoughts at the thought of his son's well being.

"Well if you wanted that," Lily muttered under her breath, her fingers tightening reflexively around her purse to stop herself from throwing it at him. "then you would have stayed gone."

"What?" James snapped.

"I said-"

"I know what you said! How dare you-"

"I want to stay with my mother." Harry suddenly shouted, his words settling like dead weight in the room.

"You…you don't want to stay with me?" James questioned softly, in the resulting silence, the words dribbling from his lips as if from a great distance.

Harry's eyes darted from his mother to James, flitting away the second he made eye contact. Finally he rested his gaze on the wall behind Remus, staring intently at the pattern of swirling flowers and lace.

"No," he whispered, dragging the words out of him, as if forcing himself to complete the sentence and utterly destroy someone he had grown to like ever so very much. "in fact…I- I don't…I don't even want to know you."

**T**o **B**e **C**ontinued…


	4. Court Dates

**Existence**

**Court Dates**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N: **Well, I did it again. I started another story when I haven't even updated any of the other ones I've started. I appreciate all the reviews and I haven't forgotten any of my stories, not at all. It's just that, all of a sudden, real life has caught up with me. I tried not to let it affect my writing, and it didn't…to an extent. It's easy to write things in my notebook, which I carry everywhere, but it's a whole nother story to find time to type and edit them. I really need an editor. Remember, if there are any questions, comments or criticisms, please review.

**Summary:** Single mother, Lily Evans is raising her son, Harry, by herself, but when the father gets a whiff of his son's existence, he wants more than just a glance…

"**W**ell you know where it goes from here."

"Don't play nice. Just give me the papers so I can go decide my defense."

"This isn't a court case. You'll have no time for any big blustery speeches. This is about a boy."

"Yeah, and I almost feel bad about what those two are going to do to him, though Harry has shown that he does have a backbone."

"Almost."

"What?"

"You said almost. You really don't care what Lily and James' son goes through do you, just as long as you get to see James go through even an ounce of the pain that you think he deserves…and for what? Being successful?"

"You understand nothing, do you? This has nothing to do with James." he smirked, "Let the games begin."

"It's not a game Snape."

"It might as well be. We're playing god aren't we- toying with a boy's life and all…no, really, you should be proud, Lupin. Ruining someone's life is all in a day's work for you three, isn't it?"

* * *

_(An hour later…)_

"We'll still go to court." Snape whispered, handing Lily a cup of coffee and wiping the seat of the armchair before sitting in it.

They had just arrived back at Lily's apartment. Quickly, Lily had ushered a pale and trembling Harry to bed, acquiescing to his wishes when he refused to leave her side, instead letting the small boy curl up on the couch, his head nestled in her lap.

"Why? Harry doesn't want to live with…_him._" Lily whispered back, gesturing for Snape not to turn on the rusty lamp in case it woke Harry.

"Normally Harry would considered old enough to decide who he wanted to live with, but he's still a minor." Snape murmured, "And you live in the slums, Lily. You work as a waitress; everyday, your son walks home through a veritable maze of drugs, murderers, and gangs. Then he comes home to a locked door- you aren't even home until eleven. How do you think this looks, especially to a judge?" Snape said bluntly.

"I…What else could I do? I was sixteen. I had no family; no husband; no high school diploma. All I had was this little babe and whatever I had on my back." Lily's tone became slightly defensive. "I was alone and I scared out of my wits. I had no idea how to take care of this little person that I'd created. I was…was so afraid, but I think I did pretty well for us. It's not a mansion in Hollywood, but Harry's happy here."

"I'm not arguing." Snape said acidly, his expression saying the exact opposite, "But the judge won't see it that way. The child always comes first. And you don't have the best track record." Snape looked around the rundown apartment as if to confirm the truth of his words.

"Harry's so good though," Lily whispered, wrapping her hands around her cup to stop them from shaking, "He's smart- I know you don't think so –but he is, and he's so good at soccer. It was supposed to be his ticket out of here." Lily's voice hitched. "Instead it led him straight to his father."

"The judge isn't going to be looking at Harry." Snape said, "He'll be looking at you. He'll be investigating your every move. How you interact at work, with your son, your friends. Oh, and he'll want to know if you can deal with raising a son and holding down job without resorting to alcoholism."

Lily flinched. "How…how did you know that?"

"You were hung over this morning." Snape hissed. "And you were drunk yesterday when Potter came over. It's in the report I got from Lupin that he's filing tomorrow."

"I-"

"Do you really think that when the judge questions Harry about whether you drink or not, he'll lie for you?" Snape snorted. "Even if he does, the judge will know that he has and that'll make it worse."

"What's…what's going to happen now? The report…what's that?" Lily asked, tears filling her green eyes.

"It's for an emergency screening." Snape sighed, "Usually if parents can't decide on custody, then they'll go to a mediator and then go to court, but Lupin circumvented that by invoking an emergency screening. It's invoked if the child has been abused, is in danger from their parent or a parent is withholding their child's contact with their other parent. In an emergency screening, the parties go to Family Court Services and meet with a Screener. This person interviews both sides, listens to the attorneys for both sides, and reviews pertinent information such as police reports _or_ accounts of alcoholism. Then he'll make a screening recommendation. Each side is entitled to a hearing before the Judge if that parent does not agree with the screening recommendation."

"Oh God," Lily gasped, "I'm going to lose my child. I've raised him for eleven years and I'm going to lose him." Red head fell like a curtain in front of her face, shielding her sobbing face.

"No, you're not." Snape insisted. "We'll fight it every step of the way." Snape stood, towering over Lily and her sleeping son. "I have to go now, but I'll inform you tomorrow of the court date."

Lily nodded and unknowingly hugged her son closer.

* * *

"He hates me." James said dully, sitting in his opulent home, slowly swirling a shot glass of expensive vodka. "He doesn't even want to know me."

"That's not true, James. You shouldn't think that." Sirius said softly, "He didn't mean it."

"How could he not mean it? He shouted it to my face. He doesn't want to see me…maybe we should just drop the suit; he's my son, but I want him to be happy and if he's happiness doesn't involve me, then-"

"James," Remus said gently, "I don't think he meant it. I deal with this sort of stuff all the time, you know. Think about it; Harry's very confused. He just found that someone who he thought was a friend is actually his father and now he's probably upset about the fact that both of you have been lying to him about it and, well, he's been living with his mother since he was born. It's only natural that he'd want to stay with her. He's feeling very out of control right now. Everything's spinning out of his grasp; he just wants a little control over the situation. And if Lily really is an alcoholic, then it's even worse because on some level, I bet he really does want to know you and spend time with you if only to have a chance to be a kid again…but because of his loyalty to his mother- he can't do that."

Slowly James raised his eyes to meet those of his two best friends. "You really think that?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, I do." Remus said softly. "The court date will be set sometime next week. After both sides present their cases I'm sure you'll have a chance to talk to Harry and get everything out in the open."

"Don't give up." Sirius urged, "This is your son. You never give up on your son."

"I guess…I guess you're right." James sighed, "Send the report."

* * *

(About a week later…)

"Well Miss Evans, I've heard some very interesting things about you from the report."

Lily smoothed out her dark pantsuit nervously. It was their first day with the screener, Minerva McGonagall…and it already wasn't looking too good. "I'm not sure what you've heard, but I can assure you that it's not true."

McGonagall sniffed. "Well, Miss Evans, we shall see."

And that was when Lily knew that she had lost.

**…**

"Lily, where do you think you're going?"

Lily turned around, flustered. "Nowhere. Why do you ask, Snape."

"Lily," Snape hesitated, "That…was nothing short of horrible in there, but don't go making it worse."

Lily laughed wildly. "How could I possibly make this worse? HOW COULD I POSSIBLY MAKE THIS WORSE! That…that woman thinks I'm an unfit parent! Harry- Harry and I will be-" Abruptly, Lily turned to walk through the door.

"Don't." Snape warned.

"Try and stop me." Lily answered bitterly, slamming the door to the courthouse behind her.

* * *

James looked sideways at Harry's tense profile. He was sitting a bit down from James, on the waiting bench outside the screener's room. His knees were pulled up to his shoulders and shoulders scrunched up to his ears. His head was buried in the folds of his slightly shaking arms, messy hair flopping over the sides. Every so often, Harry's head would lift to stare longingly at the exit. He was probably scared about his meeting with the screener later this week. Hell, James was worried about his own meeting and it was after Harry's. Deciding to move closer, James scooted over, his pants sliding over the smooth wood. "Harry?" he whispered.

Harry jerked upwards, hair spiking up wildly. He jerked away from James, sliding down the bench tensely. "I don't want to talk to you." he said softly.

"I-" James paused, why had he decided to talk to Harry again? The kid hated him. "I just wanted to know why you were waiting out here without your mom." he asked lamely.

Harry sighed. "I don't know. She said she'd be back soon, but…it's been at least an hour."

"Oh…um, Harry-"

"I don't want to talk about this," Harry said quickly, a hint of red creeping up his face. "Not…" he took a deep breath, "Not now."

"Harry," James said gently, "I'm your father and I know that you're not very happy with me right now, but I'm not going to leave, I couldn't, not after seeing what a great kid you are." he paused, waiting for a reaction. When Harry's eyes didn't move from his ragtag sneakers, he continued, "Harry, please, I want…I want to be your friend, no that's wrong, I want to be more than that. I want to be your father."

"If you wanted that, then you would have been there from the beginning." Harry said roughly, his hands tightening on the bench reflexively.

"And I'll never forgive myself for that. But…but if I had known of you…Harry, I swear it, I would have been there. At every soccer practice, every parent day, I wanted- want to be there for you." James whispered, reaching an arm around Harry's still form.

Harry shifted away from him. "But you weren't. You weren't. And how do I know that you'll always be here? You left Mom; you'll probably…" his breath hitched, "…probably want to le- leave me too."

Distraught, James pulled his son into a fierce hug, feeling Harry's silent tears seeping through his expensive shirt. "I love you, okay; I love you and no one can change that." He whispered hoarsely into Harry's hair. "I love you."

"But…but that'll change." Harry cried, his sobs shaking both of them. "You won't…you won't-"

"Yes I will." James murmured, rocking him, "I always will, even if the world ends, civilization collapses, and Snape washes his hair, one thing will always stay the same. I'll always love you."

Harry's leaking eyes widened, before he burst into more tears. His mother had said the same thing. Was it…was it possible that both of them meant it? That he'd finally have two parents- both of whom who loved him. Slowly Harry's arms crept around James to hug him back. The two- father and son –rocked together until Harry's crying subsided.

"So," James nudged, "Do you think you could let me be your old man?" Seeing Harry's still teary face, he hastily added, "If…if you want, of course. I mean, it can't much fun discussing soccer or…guy stuff with your mother, so…"

Harry smiled shyly at him, his grin lighting up the room and he buried his face in James' shirt, inhaling his scent.

"Harry?"

"Mommy!" Harry reluctantly tore himself away from James and ran towards his mother.

"Wait a second Harry." James' hand clamped down on Harry's shoulder like an anvil, halting his movement. "Where were you Lily? You finished at least an hour ago."

"Harry was fine," Lily slurred, "Weren't you, Harry?"

Biting his lip, Harry nodded, looking from his mother to his father.

Rubbing Harry's shoulder comfortingly, James drew him closer. "You're drunk aren't you?" he stated bluntly, mouth twisting in disgust when Lily shook her head and stumbled to the side. "God, you're sick. How can you expect to take good care of Harry when you're…like this?"

Harry squirmed. He wanted to tell James off for speaking to his mom like that, but…he had been waiting for someone to tell his mother this for ages now.

"Don't tell me how to take care of my son." Lily garbled, staggering towards them, "Come on Harry, lets go home."

James took two steps backward, pulling Harry with him. "I'm not letting my son get in a car with you when you're drunk. I'll take Harry home later when you're less intoxicated, but he won't go with you."

"The hell-" Lily began angrily.

"Fine." James said shortly as he swung Harry up into his arms like he was a toddler, ignoring his yelp of surprise. "Then he won't go home at all. He'll stay with me until the hearing."

"No, he will not." Lily hissed, grabbing James' shoulder, "He'll come home with me."

James eyed her disdainfully. "Look at yourself. You have to get yourself together or I swear Lily, I'll get a restraining order and you'll never see your son again."

Lily let go with soundless gasp and saw Harry's mouth open in shock. "No…I-" he started.

"What, Harry?" James prodded, staring intensely at his son.

"No- Nothing." Harry lowered his head.

"Harry…" Lily said weakly, barely able to see James striding away with her son through her unfocused gaze.

"Go back to the bar." James called over his shoulder.

"Come back-" Lily's voice caught in her throat as she stared into Harry's dry eyes. Harry's beautiful, innocent, accusing eyes. He was staring at her with the solemnity of a child who knew that something terrible had happened, but didn't know how to fix. Lily trembled- he shouldn't have to fix it, not this. Oh God what had she done to him; what was she continuing to do to him? Unable to bear the weight of those, beguiling, reproachful eyes Lily turned away and sobbed, leaning against the door as her son and ex walked out, Harry's head buried in James' Armani suit. James knew, he knew that if she going to go anywhere now, it wouldn't be to the bar.

It would be to get back her son.

**T**o **B**e **C**ontinued…


	5. The Decision

**Existence**

**The Decision**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N: **Well, I did it again. I started another story when I haven't even updated any of the other ones I've started. I appreciate all the reviews and I haven't forgotten any of my stories, not at all. It's just that, all of a sudden, real life has caught up with me. I tried not to let it affect my writing, and it didn't…to an extent. It's easy to write things in my notebook, which I carry everywhere, but it's a whole nother story to find time to type and edit them. I really need an editor. Remember, if ther accuse e are any questions, comments or criticisms, please review.

**Summary:** Single mother, Lily Evans is raising her son, Harry, by herself, but when the father gets a whiff of his son's existence, he wants more than just a glance…

**J**ames gently placed Harry on one of his lush black couches. He had fallen asleep in the limo, huddled on James' lap. Quietly, James took one of the afghans that was draped over another couch and wrapped it around Harry's silent form, slowly unraveling his own coat from Harry's shoulders. Wistfully, James brushed Harry's untidy black hair- hair he had inherited from James, himself –and sighed fitfully. To think that he could have had this for eleven years; that he could have put his son to sleep everyday; that he could have had the right to watch his beautiful- there had never a more angelic child –boy breath.

"Sir?"

Startled, James turned quickly, standing in front of Harry protectively. "Who- Pettigrew…" James breathed, relaxing in relief, "You shouldn't just sneak up on people."

"I'm sorry, sir." Pettigrew groveled, his rat-like face screwing up unhappily.

"Don't…don't worry about it. Can you please prepare a bedroom for my son? He'll be spending the next couple of weeks with me, maybe even longer." James asked, a slight smile playing across his face.

"Of course, sir." Pettigrew bowed and scuttled out of the room.

"James?"

Harry's light whispery voice made James turn and look back at his son, smiling. He was still cocooned in the myriad of cloth, but he had poked out his head much like a sleepy turtle.

"What's wrong Harry?" James asked softly, "Did I wake you?"

"No," Harry shifted uncomfortably, "I just…I'd rather…not sleep alone."

"Oh," James heart gave a tearing wrench. "Don't worry, you can stay with me."

"Thanks, I- oh wait, James, I can get up by my-"

Chuckling, James swung Harry into his arms again and carried him out of the room. "It's alright, and Harry…you can call me dad."

* * *

"James, I've heard that you've gotten yourself a son." James leaned in his chair staring absentmindedly at the speakerphone through which Lucius was talking. It was only seven in the morning, Harry was still sleeping, and yet Lucius already knew about him. How did he find out about something supposed to be private…wait, never mind, James didn't _want_ to know how.

"Yes, Lucius. That would be correct. I do have a son." James answered dryly. If he hid it, then it'd be worse later.

"Really." Lucius sounded faintly amused. "I do hope that you haven't been fooling around with some slank."

James stiffened. "I hope that you aren't referring to my son like that."

"The little half-breed? James, listen to me, you'll want to get rid of the brat as soon as possible."

"Get rid-"

"Yes, these little nuisances come back to bother you. If you don't nip this in the bud now, then it'll haunt you later."

James sighed. "Goodbye Lucius. It was, as always, lovely to talk to you." Without waiting for an answer, James jammed the speakerphone button down, effectively ending the conversation. "Ass." he whispered to the silent phone.

"Is that how you feel about me?"

James whirled around. Harry was standing in the corner of his study gripping the afghan tightly. "Harry," James said softly, "I didn't know that you were there."

Harry's face tightened into a half frightened, half angry look. "A half-breed." he whispered, "What did he mean by that?"

James sighed and got up to kneel beside Harry. "It's nothing to worry yourself over, kiddo."

Harry frowned suspiciously. "And why did he call mom a slank? She's not one. She's not a-"

"I know Harry, I know." James soothed, "Lucius didn't know what he was talking about. I would never call your mom that."

"But you hate her." Harry accused.

James hesitated. "Yes, I do," he said, deciding to be truthful, "and I think she has a lot of…things to work through. And I think she needs to work through these things alone, without hurting you in the process."

"Not being with her _is_ hurting me." Harry said decisively.

"Harry," James said softly.

"No!" Harry suddenly shouted, "You, you're the one whose hurting me!" His voice went high. "I love her and she needs me. She _needs _me." His voice hiccupped and went on: "Who's going to take care of her now? Someone needs to take care of her and…and I love her and- and- even when she came back late and stunk of alcohol when she kissed me goodnight. Even when she couldn't get up in the morning because she had a hangover…even…even." Harry started to cry and James watched, half-fascinated, half-horrified. Harry didn't even cry like normal children with a heaving chest and snotty nose. He cried silently, large tears filling and dripping down his face, his head bowed and when his shoulders started to shake, he stilled them with an almost brutal force.

Even crying had been taken from him.

James leaned forward and wrapped him in a large hug. "I know." he whispered, "I know. You hate her and you hate me and neither of us deserve you, but I promise, Harry, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of your love."

Slowly Harry's hands wrapped around James' neck and cried properly, huge shaking sobs wracking his body. And at that moment, James promised himself that, no matter what, when Harry realized that he'd lost everything, he'd make sure that his son knew that he still had a father, that he'd never not have one.

Not ever again.

* * *

_(Three weeks later…)_

"Well," McGonagall, adjusted her glasses and stared at the six people sitting in front of her. "I think we all know where this has been heading." As she said the words, Snape tightened imperceptivity and Harry and Lily's hands clutched each other's tighter.

McGonagall sighed and reached for her glasses again, this time taking them off and rubbing her forehead. This was a difficult decision to say the least. First, Ms. Evans raises her son without even informing the father about him and when Mr. Potter finds out, instead of ignoring the child like most celebrities did with their bastard children, he actually wanted custody rights. And of course, there was the reports of alcoholism that were fast becoming apparent even to her and see only knew the woman for a couple months.

At least reconciliation seemed impossible; these two would be disastrous together.

Most important, however, was Harry and his mother's bond. They were inseparable. The young boy had spent the last couple weeks at his father for "undisclosed" reasons as Lupin had told her, and this meeting was the first time he had seen her since. The response was almost frightening in its intensity. Harry had flew across the room, shaking off James' hand, and yelling "Mommy!", threw herself at Lily who was crying herself. They hadn't stopped holding hands since. If their attitude's towards each other weren't so disturbing (Harry discreetly touching her face for injuries and inquiring after whether she had eaten properly), she would have laughed at the half-shocked, half-crushed look on James' face.

It didn't matter now, though. The way Harry had greeted Lily had cinched her decision. It wasn't healthy for a boy to be so worried about his mother. It wasn't healthy for a son to be taking care of his mother at such a young age. Harry already acted older than his age, his face studious and blank unless talking about his friends, Ron and Hermione, or soccer. He didn't deserve to grow up this way.

"Ms. Evans," McGonagall began crisply, "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to award full custody to Mr. Potter. Your home environment is not safe for a young boy." She looked pointedly at Harry's hand which was growing steadily whiter as Lily clutched it tighter and tighter. Lily slowly let it go.

The room remained silent.

"I. however, understand that you love your son and have provided for him, as best you could in the past eleven years so I hand you this: if you remain sober for the next six months, then I will begin to allow supervised visits once a week, maybe even granting equal custody rights. But you will have to work for it, my dear. I expect daily AAA meetings. I expect a better apartment. I expect a lot of things from you that should have been done earlier to protect the welfare of your son and so you will do these things if you ever want to have contact with him again. Do you understand?" she asked coldly.

Lily nodded numbly. "Good." McGonagall said calmly, ignoring the tears welling up in her eyes. "Then this meeting is over."

"No!" Harry suddenly shrieked. "I can't!" he cried out, throwing himself at his mother. "I can't. I can't!"

"Harry," James started, leaning over the small boy, "Harry, it's okay. We'll-"

"NO!" Harry shouted again. "No no no no-"

"Harry, stop that." Lily said firmly, hugging her son firmly.

"But-"

"No, now you listen. I've…had a lot of time to think…without you around. And I realized that I can't survive without you, but…I can't- I can't take you down with me. I just can't." Lily said softly, stroking his hair and laying tearful kisses through his hair.

"But, Mommy, I can't just _leave_ you." Harry whispered fiercely, clutching his mother, tears beginning to leak from his green eyes.

"You were the adult Harry, not me," Lily said gently, "and that isn't fair to you. I was never fair, not from the moment I made you the adult. It's time to go with your father. He'll take care of you until I can get you back." Lily turned Harry's shaking head towards her own and forced Harry to look into her eyes. Whatever she saw there forced her to tears again and she layered soft kisses down Harry's temple to his throat. "And I will come get you. I promise. Now go."

Harry slowly got up and allowed James to pick him, his body limp against James' taller one. McGonagall watched them leave the room, Harry still shaking his head mutely: _NO!; _James, still trying to calm him down; and Lily, a broken wreck with Severus leaning over her, patting her on the back and whispering something into her ear.

She didn't know if that poor boy would ever be alright again. She just didn't know.

**T**o** B**e** C**ontinued…

**A/N 2**: Well, it's been a while since I updated so I owe everyone an apology, but there is a reason. I've had a lot of medical issues that have kept me from writing. Now, however, I'm on the mend and hopefully, I'll be updating more and more often. Also, I wanted everyone to know, that first this isn't the end. This is the half-way mark, so please let me know what you all think!


	6. Different

**Existence**

**Different**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N: **I'm…back! So sorry for all the delays. I deserve to be beaten with a stick because the lovely response to this fic has overwhelmed me and I haven't kept up with it as I should of. I will try to do better. Also, several people have mentioned that McGonagall is the math teacher and the judge in this story, but what no one realizes is that Minerva…moonlights as a judge in order to make more money so that she can keep up with her gambling habit which…alright, alright, you lot caught me. I made a mistake. Again, many apologies. Anyway, enjoy the chapter. Comments are appreciated.

**Summary:** Single mother, Lily Evans is raising her son, Harry, by herself, but when the father gets a whiff of his son's existence, he wants more than just a glance…

James watched as Harry slouched into the house, passing him by as if he was invisible. He walked up the stairs, his book bag hitting every step on the way up. His steps were softened on the carpet and his door closed with the slightest of sighs.

James winced.

He had come home early so that he would be there when Harry arrived back from his first day at his new school, but he had expected a little bit more…enthusiasm from his son. He still wasn't taking well to McGonagall's decision – he was prone to long sullen silences and moody moments where he lashed out at everything in reach - but James had hoped that being around people his own age would cheer him up.

James ran a hand through his unruly hair, shrugging apologetically at Remus and Sirius who had dropped him off and started up the stairs after Harry. Stopping at the door, he knocked softly. Hearing no response, James turned the knob and stepped in the door. Harry's backpack was thrown in a corner and the boy himself was lying on the bed, head buried in his arms. His back was tense as if a string was pulled tight from his hips to his head.

"I didn't say you could come in."

The angry voice stopped him cold. He wasn't sure when this stranger had appeared in the place of his Harry but James often felt as if their relationship had turned into a warzone overnight and James found himself fumbling for retorts more than once.

"I know. I'm sorry." James also found out that apologizing was a big part of this new relationship. "How was school?"

Harry's back tightened even further. "I hate it. I miss my old school. There were reporters everywhere and everyone there's a snob. They won't even let me try out for the soccer team. It's too late!"

James reached out to smooth Harry hair, but stopped himself before he touched Harry, his hand lingering uncertainly. "The reporters will leave soon. They just-"

"Soon?" Harry swung upwards, sounding slightly hysterical. "It's been three months since I moved in! They keep – they keep – they're everywhere! I'm going crazy! I want to go home! I want my-" Harry cut himself off and buried his head in his arms again.

"I'm sorry, Harry," James sad again. He hesitated. "Maybe…maybe I could talk to the soccer coach. I'm sure they could make an exception. After all-"

"No," Harry sounded bitter now. "They'll just think that my famous father is doing stuff for me that I can't do on my own. Soccer is my thing. I don't want you involved."

That stung but James nodded. "Alright then. I won't say anything. Do – do you want me to bring up dinner for you? I'm sure you must be hungry."

Harry shook his head. "No. I don't want it."

James bit his lip to stop himself from retorting angrily. "You need to eat, Harry. You haven't been eating properly lately and it's going to make you sick."

"No! I'm not hungry!" Harry snapped, his voice muffled but no less angry.

"Fine!" James bit out. "Starve." He got up to leave the room but then sighed and sank back down next to Harry. "I love you," he said softly and this time he did reach out and stroke Harry's hair.

Harry snorted and shied away from the touch. "If you really loved me then you'd let me stay with my mom." he said coldly and turned onto his side, cutting off any contact with James.

James got up and walked to the door. "Sorry," he said helplessly before closing the door.

He walked back downstairs where Remus and Sirius were still waiting.

"He doesn't seem to be doing much better." Sirius commented softly as James bypassed them completely and sat in an armchair, burying his face in his palms.

James snorted. "Better? He hates me. He hates everything about me. He just…can't stand being here – it's so repulsive that he won't even eat!"

"James, calm down." Remus said gently. "Harry's very fragile right now. His entire life has changed. He doesn't mean what he's saying."

"Yes he does." James said gravely. "He – you haven't heard him, have you? He doesn't even talk to either of you! He – he – maybe I should let him see his mother. Supervised, of course…but do you think that'll make him happy?"

"James, no," Remus said firmly. "That could be incredibly destructive right now. You've got to show Harry that he isn't responsible for his mother's wellbeing and that you're responsible for his. He needs to understand that he can't see his mother because she is unwell and that this isn't anyone's fault. Not yours and not his. Even his mother can't help herself right now. You have to make him understand this is for his benefit, not yours."

"But…" James faltered and then whispered, "He's so unhappy. I thought putting him in a different school, a different environment, would make things easier for him – distance, you know – but now he can't play soccer and he misses his friends so much and he's so angry. It can't be healthy, can it? For him to be like this? So unhappy."

Sirius shook his head. "I think he was unhappy for a long time, but he just…repressed it. Smiled for his mother and for his friends and just hid everything way deep down inside. And it rotted and it festered and maybe he doesn't feel like he needs a façade with you, James. Maybe, it's like, he's angry with you because he could never be angry with his mother. And maybe it's a good thing. Better in than out, right?"

James laughed unhappily. "I'd rather he pretended to be happy." Then his face twisted. "No, no I'd rather be just _be_ happy. I just don't think it can happen. He's so – _not_ happy."

Remus rubbed James' shoulder supportively. "I think you've just got to wait it out. Just wait and he'll come around."

"Okay," James said dully, "Yeah, waiting."

* * *

Harry curled around his pillow. Stupid school, stupid James, stupid…everything. Especially James. He just couldn't stand it anymore. He needed his mom and more importantly, his mommy needed him. How was she supposed to do anything without him? They were a team. That was how it always was, at least, until _him._ James had ruined everything with his stupid…caring and saying I love you every single freaking day.

Just…Stupid.

And he refused to get angry with Harry. He just kept apologizing, what for, Harry couldn't understand. Harry was being the brat. James should have kicked him out already. Should have at least yelled at him or sent him to his room or not spoken to him…but he just apologized…like it was his fault.

Harry curled into a tighter ball. He missed Ron and Hermione and Hogwarts and soccer. He missed his mommy. He didn't want to go to that horrible prep school again. Everyone had just stared at him as if he was some kind of freak. Bastard child. Illegitimate. Different.

Harry's shoulders drew up to his ears and he started to cry softly. He couldn't understand why. James said he loved him but he refused to let him see his mother and his mother hadn't even called…or written or even tried to come get him. He wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted this to just…stop.

Mustering up his determination, Harry rolled off the bed and pulled out a duffle bag. In it was some clothes and a day's worth of food. He marched over to the window and yanked it open. Beneath him, just five feet down, was a fire escape leading to the ground. He threw one leg over the window sill, and then like every other time he had attempted, he pulled it back in and shut the window, sliding down to the floor beside it.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't just leave. What if his mother didn't want him back? What if she threw him out again? James wouldn't take him back after he left. Where would he go?

Shaking slightly, he made his way back to the bed and stuffed the duffle bag underneath it again to be ready for the next time he felt like leaving. Then he flung himself back on the bed and let himself wallow in his misery until he fell asleep.

* * *

James was throwing a small party tonight.

True Harry was still spending more time in his room than not and refused to speak to him but perhaps spending some time with his classmates outside of school would soften him up.

The party started out well. James was chitchatting with several producers about a recent movie and he had noticed that Harry was grudgingly talking to Lucius Malfoy's boy and several others. He didn't exactly look happy but James had cajoled him into appearing so he was counting it as a victory.

"Is your son thinking of going into the movie business?"

James turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. "What? No, of course not. He doesn't even like crowds."

"How sad for you, then," Lucius murmured from behind him, "Your only progeny hating your chosen profession. Draco is already performing in the theater. We're thinking of letting him do a movie next year."

James felt his smile tighten. Did Lucius somehow know that he and Harry were barely speaking? "I find it better to let Harry develop his own interests." And then, feeling the need to one up Malfoy: "He plays soccer."

"Ah, soccer…" Malfoy drawled, dripping condescension. "How novel."

"He's brilliant at it." James said hotly. "He-"

Suddenly they both heard a loud squawking from across the room. Turning, James saw Harry dive at Draco and tackle him to the floor, punching him in the face.

"Draco!" cried Lucius.

"Harry!" James yelled half a second later, hardly able to believe the boy currently trying to beat up Malfoy's son was his quiet demurring Harry.

James strode over and yanked his son up and off Draco, shaking him when he continued to try to lunge at Draco.

"What sort of barbarian are you raising!" Lucius snarled, helping his son to his feet.

Harry was panting, his face red and he looked close to tears. "Get out." James said coldly, holding Harry close enough to hear his rapidly beating heart. "Both of you."

Lucius made an inarticulate sound of rage. "How dare you! Your son-"

"Leave." James repeated calmly, "And keep your son the fuck away from mine."

Lucius growled under his breath and dragged Draco to the door. James watched them stalk out of the house in silence. Then taking a big breath, he looked around. The party had ground to a complete stop, everyone staring at the two Potters in the middle of the room. James grabbed Harry's arm and tugged him out of the room and back to his bedroom.

"What did he say to you?" James asked, kneeling down to his level cupping Harry's face.

Harry's mouth thinned and he shook his head. "Nothing," he said dully. "I just hate him, alright. Sorry I ruined everything. Can I go to bed now?"

James sighed. "Harry, sweetheart, if you don't tell me what happened I can't help you. Tell me what he said."

Harry jerked away. "Nothing," he snapped, "I said it was nothing."

"Did he…" James hesitated, "say something about…"

"Mom?" Harry shouted, "You can say it, you know! She's not dead! You can't just make her go away by pretending she doesn't exist!"

"I know that, Harry," James soothed, "I just don't want to-"

"I hate you!" Harry yelled at him. "This is all your fault! If it wasn't for you I could be at home. Just go away; I hate you!"

James stood up abruptly, thrusting Harry away from him so suddenly that the boy fell to the ground. "Don't you _ever_-"

James stopped suddenly when he realized that he was looming over Harry threateningly and that his son was sobbing. "Harry, I didn't mean-"

But Harry had already scrambled up and fled to the bathroom locking the door behind him.

Locking him out.

**T**o **B**e **C**oncluded…


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